


All's fair in beer and blowjobs

by pianoforeplay



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-16
Updated: 2011-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-15 17:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared gets drunk and forgets. Jensen doesn't get drunk enough and is pissed. Jared sobers up and remembers and then tries to make amends. And they live happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All's fair in beer and blowjobs

**Author's Note:**

> No major warnings except for maybe some dub-con issues; not violent at all, but there is alcohol involved. Other than that, just the general warning for complete lack of plot and boys being kind of dickish. Many thanks go out to moosesal for her awesome beta skills and to fayemeadows for planting this seed of an idea into my brain. Initially posted [here](http://pianoforeplay.livejournal.com/32591.html) on 3/8/2010.

Jared wakes up on the couch in his living room, haphazardly wrapped like a sloppy burrito in the fleece blanket his mother sent him his first winter up in Vancouver. It's coiled around his middle and half covering one thigh, leaving his arms bare and cold in the crisp morning air, back twisted uncomfortably so that his knees are facing out and torso in. He breathes in sharp, scowling at the taste in his mouth, pungent sour of alcohol and morning thick in his throat.

He turns slowly, untwisting with a low groan and blinks up at the ceiling. Fights to remember why he's here, folded and crammed onto the couch and not in his wide, spacious bed, which is only one floor away. He doesn't have a headache, which is a relief. At least until he realizes that means he's probably still a little drunk.

A sound from the kitchen, sharp and sudden, startles him from his thoughts. It's followed by the clumsy scuffle and click-clack of claws on tile and the low murmur of Jensen's voice:

"Alright, alright, you two. Chill."

Jared slides a hand over his eyes and struggles to sit up, tugs the sweaty collar of his t-shirt away from where it's threatening to asphyxiate him and drops his feet to the floor. "Jen?" he grumbles, unwinding the blanket from around his middle and swaying to his feet.

When he steps into the kitchen, Jensen's just setting down the dog bowls and doesn't so much as glance in Jared's direction.

"'Time is it?"

Jensen gives Harley's back a swift pat and then turns to the sink. "Time for you to get a watch."

Jared arches an eyebrow, but he's not too put out. It's early still; Jensen hasn't yet had his coffee. "Well, fuck you, too," he replies as he rubs his right hand over his bare left wrist. "Where _is_ my watch anyway?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jensen says, glancing up briefly as he turns off the faucet and shakes the wet from his hands. "Not your handler, Jay."

Before Jared can respond, Jensen's pushing past him. Jared hears the door to Jensen's room shut moments later, not quite a slam, but definitely firm. He blinks in the suddenly empty kitchen and lifts a hand to scratch idly at the tickle on his stomach as he gets lost in a long, stretching yawn.

God, his mouth really tastes like ass.

The clock on the microwave declares that it's a quarter to two and Jared sighs, tugging his shirt back down over his belly as he surveys the disaster that is his kitchen. He thinks about cleaning for all of ten seconds before heading back into the living room to collapse back into the safety and warmth of his couch.

:::

"So I guess it was a good party," he says when Jensen finally reemerges from his bedroom several hours later and Jared's own brain is no longer trying to squeeze its way out his eye sockets.

Jensen glances up from this phone, eyes locking on Jared's, dull and uncomprehending before he looks away again. "Wasn't bad."

"I can't remember anything after, like, midnight," Jared admits, half-sheepish and half-amused.

"Yeah, well. You were pretty hammered."

His tone is quiet, detached and disinterested and Jared waits, expecting Jensen to give him a little more to go on. Because, well. He'd kind of liked to remember exactly how big an ass he made of himself last night and whether or not he has cause to apologize to anyone on set tomorrow. If maybe he should worry about the future of his job.

At least he's managed to remember what happened to his watch. Though, okay, that's largely because he found it under the table, wrapped around an empty bottle of Two Buck Chuck, but whatever.

But Jensen's not offering any help whatsoever, brows knit as he frowns down at his phone, thumb working furiously.

Finally, Jared huffs a breath and turns back to the television, subject effectively dropped.

:::

"Dude, great party this weekend," Craig says on Monday. It's just past six in the morning and the guy's already all smiles, headset mic propped up away from his mouth like an antenna and gum popping.

"Yeah?" Jared replies, wishing not for the first time that he could remember more of it. Bits and pieces have come back to him in time. He actually remembers people leaving now, how he and Jensen had stood sentry at the front door as their colleagues and friends filed out. Or, well. Jensen stood and Jared kind of... hung off him. Which probably explained some of Jensen's irritation the next morning.

"Yeah, totally. Gotta have 'em more often," Craig says, grinning wider yet. "Good for team morale, am I right?"

Jared's lips twitch into a small smile and he nods his agreement before realizing that Craig might be more helpful than Jensen had been. He steps in a little closer, voice dropping. Says, "So, uh. What was your favorite part exactly?"

Craig's smile fades a little. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just doing a poll," Jared adds quickly, pasting on a quick, bright smile. "For the next one. Gotta keep pushin' to make it better, am I right?"

"Uh-huh," Craig says, clearly doubtful as his brows crease into a confused line. "Well, the beer was pretty good? I liked that it was free."

Jared frowns a little. That's not exactly helpful.

"Uhm..." Craig continues, still eying Jared warily, "the music could've been better?"

"Hmm."

"Maybe next time there can be strippers? That'd be... you know, that'd be pretty awesome."

Jared blinks. Then snorts out a laugh as he shakes his head, deciding to let the inquisition drop. It's clearly going nowhere. He rests his hand on Craig's shoulder and squeezes. Says, "Yeah, man. I'll see what I can do."

:::

Jensen walks out of wardrobe a half hour later, smoothing one hand down Dean's jacket while idly pawing at his newly spiked hair with the other and Jared falls into step beside him.

"Craig wants strippers," he says. "And Trish thinks there should be more rum and less tequila."

Jensen glances over, frowning, _What the hell are you talking about?_ written in the arch of his eyebrows.

"Party," Jared says and tips his head back to drop half a handful of Skittles into his mouth. "Next one. I'm doin' a poll."

Jensen's only answer is another blank stare.

"Well, it was a good one, right? This weekend? I figure we can make the next one even more awesome."

"Mm-hmm."

"Dude, come on. You know we gotta have another one. And it _has_ to be even better. Don't want us to be those guys who had that one totally awesome party that one time and have sucked major dick ever since."

Jensen's scowl only deepens then and there's a flicker behind his eyes that actually makes Jared a little nervous as he slows to a stop and rests a hand on Jared's shoulder. "For the next one," he says, eyes locked on Jared's and utterly serious, " _If_ there ever is a next one -- I think maybe you should just focus on drinking a little less, how 'bout that?"

Then he gives Jared's arm a hard pat, turns and walks away.

Jared's left frowning after him, inexplicably embarrassed and totally confused. Because, hell, it's not like _Jensen's_ a stranger to getting totally wasted. And it was _one party_. At his own house. It's not a big deal. Not like Jared had gotten blitzed and then insisted on driving or something ridiculous like that. The worst he'd done was make an ass of himself before crashing in his living room.

What the hell's so wrong with that?

:::

Aside of what's necessary to actually get their job done, Jensen barely says a word to him for the rest of the day. And even then, the statements are short and clipped and dripping with irritation.

And, okay, Jared can be kind of slow on the uptake sometimes, but he thinks he's starting to get it.

Something clearly happened at the party. Jared doesn't know what because, despite his best efforts, nobody else seems to be able to clue him in on anything horribly appalling he might've done, but it's clear there's _something_. Something big enough to leave Jensen pissed off two days later.

Of course, Jensen's being a total passive-aggressive little bitch about the whole thing, which isn't helping. And Jared can only stand that for so long.

"Okay, seriously," he says, barging into Jensen's trailer shortly before they're due to film their last scene of the day. "What the fuck happened?"

Jensen looks up from the couch and blinks at him, remote control resting on his thigh. "Excuse me?"

"Did I take a piss on your bed or something? Call up your mom and tell her about that one time I caught you jerking off to pterodactyl porn?"

" _What?_ "

"Dude, just tell me!" Jared shouts, arms spread wide. "I think I at least deserve to know what the hell I did to make you start acting like a sulky little bitch."

Jensen only stares at him, a hard frown curving his lips before he lets out a scoff and shakes his head. "You don't remember."

"No _shit_ I don't remember! Why do think I'm _here_?"

"I don't know, Jared," Jensen says, voice dull and clipped. "Why are you here?"

"Because you're-- Jesus _Christ_ , you're an asshole!" Jared shouts. " _What the fuck did I do?_ Just _tell_ me!"

He doesn't miss the way Jensen's lips twitch into a faint smile then, eyes crinkling in the corners in that way that somehow always strikes Jared as completely adorable. Not that he'll ever admit it.

"Seriously, Jared, it's nothing," Jensen says then, quieter and more sincere. Almost calming. "Okay? I'm just. I've been stressing and taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

Jared doesn't believe him for a second, but he feels himself relaxing all the same, arms dropping to his sides as he lets out a breath.

"So I didn't do anything?"

Jensen's gaze flicks away and he lifts a hand to his mouth before he shakes his head again. "You didn't-- Look, trust me, it's not important. I'm just being a douche."

"If you're lying and it _is_ important, you should tell me," Jared says, but he's not certain how much he actually means that. So long as Jensen stops acting like Jared's the most intolerable person on the planet, that's all that really matters. "Just so... you know. So I don't do it again."

"You won't do it again," Jensen replies, voice so sure Jared can't help being all the more curious.

He opens his mouth to ask yet again, but a knock on the door followed by Renee sticking her head in stops him short. "Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt, but you're both needed on set."

"Kay," Jensen says, putting on a sigh that's all show. "How long we got?"

"Five minutes."

"Awesome."

She flashes a quick smile and then glances at Jared, who manages his own strained one in return before she ducks back out, closing the door behind her.

"Don't think we're done here," Jared says once she's disappeared. He's trying for vaguely threatening, but Jensen only rolls his eyes and flips off the television as he gets to his feet.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say."

:::

It's past midnight by the time they wrap. Jared dozes on the drive home, the rumble and sway of the car lulling him into a restless sleep, helping his mind settle for the first time all day.

And it's then that he remembers.

Or, well. Kind of.

It comes on slow, just faint snatches of hazy memories at first: the party guests filtering out one by one, Jared hanging on Jensen like a rhesus monkey while giggling his goodbyes. The both of them grabbing yet another pair of Coronas afterward and settling on the couch, warm and content and completely fucking wasted. Jensen sitting close enough that their thighs touched, close enough Jared could feel every breath Jensen took, close enough that Jensen's hand on his leg didn't come as any surprise.

Jared's eyes snap open and his breath catches. Jensen's passed out on the seat in front of him, head resting against the glass and Jared just stares, heart hammering in his rib cage as it all comes rushing back.

It hits like a freight train and, for a moment, he thinks maybe his brain is just making it all up. That it's just fantasy trying valiantly to make a claim on reality.

But no. No, the more he thinks about it, the more he remembers in sudden, vibrant clarity. And the more he's positive it actually happened.

Holy _shit_.

He remembers Jensen's hand on his thigh and Jensen's shoulder pressed hard against his own and then-- fuck, and then Jensen's mouth on his jaw and neck and-- and, Jesus, they _kissed_. He remembers the kissing. He's pretty sure there'd been a lot of it. Jensen's mouth had been warm and unbelievably soft and he'd tasted like beer and potato chips and that weird fucking salsa shit Rich had brought over. And it hadn't been really all that good at first because their noses smashed together and Jensen spilled beer on Jared's shirt while trying to climb into Jared's lap.

But then... then it had been _awesome_. All tongues and grappling hands, loose, uncoordinated fumblings as they pulled at each other's clothes, greedily grabbing at bare skin before Jensen had slithered down onto the floor, pushing Jared's shirt up to kiss and lick at Jared's stomach. Jared remembers that clearly, remembers staring down at the top of Jensen's head and being mesmerized by the terrain of his hair, the short strands soft tickling his palm. He remembers tracing the shell of Jensen's ear with his thumb as Jensen moved lower, remembers struggling to lift his hips so Jensen could pull Jared's jeans down enough to free his cock, remembers the slick, blissful heat of Jensen's mouth sucking him down.

Jared almost outright whimpers then, has to bite down on his fist to keep it quiet as his face flushes.

God, it'd been _good_. So fucking good. The best, dirtiest, sloppiest blowjob of Jared's _life_ and it'd been _Jensen_ and then he'd-- he must've--

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

A sudden, heavy weight settles in his stomach, dread twisting tight as the realization creeps up on him, his cheeks flaming with a whole new kind of heat this time and, mortified, he claps a hand over his mouth.

Jesus, no wonder Jensen's been so pissy.

 _Fuck_.

:::

He keeps quiet in the car, stomach churning for the last few remaining miles, exhaustion giving way to something just shy of terror as Clif pulls up into Jared's driveway.

"Alright, everyone outta the pool," he announces tiredly and Jensen snuffles into consciousness, groaning as he sits up straight and rolls his shoulders back, stretches his neck.

Jared's already sliding across to the door, yanking on the handle with a twist of his wrist and dropping out onto the pavement, hoping beyond hope that the darkness will shroud the humiliation doubtlessly coloring his face.

Either it does the trick or the other two are too tired to notice as Jensen follows him out silently and Clif says, "I'll swing by at around 7:00 tomorrow. You assholes better be up and ready."

"Eat a dick," Jensen mutters pleasantly, already halfway up the drive.

Ordinarily, Jared would offer his own colorful commentary, but this time he can only manage a strained, slightly apologetic smile in Clif's direction.

If Clif notices anything's off, he doesn't mention it. Just rolls his eyes and gives Jared a half-assed wave as Jared shuts the door.

It's not until they're both in the house and Jensen's halfway to his bedroom that Jared breaks.

He's still in his coat and he feels like his feet are working faster than the rest of him as he catches up to Jensen in the hallway, grabs hold of him by the elbow.

"Jensen. Jensen, hold up."

"Dude," Jensen grumbles, yanking free just as he gets to his door and turning to glare at Jared. But, he doesn't really look angry so much as mildly confused and extremely tired.

Which means Jared should probably save this until tomorrow. Think it through and do it right.

Yeah, that's not happening.

"I'm sorry," he says on a heavy exhale. "I remembered. Just now, in the car on the way back. I remembered everything and Jesus, Jensen, I'm so _so_ fucking sorry."

Jensen continues squinting at him, staring like Jared's the most boggling puzzle he's ever encountered.

"The party," Jared rushes to explain. "The, uh... on the couch. You and me and the kissing and then the, the uh..."

Jensen's eyes go wide the second he catches on and he immediately lifts a hand between them, a silent indication for Jared to shut the fuck up.

"It's fine," he says even though Jared can tell by the way his expression shuts down that it's really really not. "We were drunk, shit happened and now it's done. No big deal. End of story."

"But--"

"Dude. Stop. We're not talking about this."

Jared's mouth is still open to argue, but Jensen's not budging, gaze pinning Jared in place, daring him to say another word. And Jared thinks about pushing it. Because, hey, maybe they were drunk, but Jared would... well, he's thought about it while sober. Usually, while also jerking off. And he'd really really like another chance. If only because then he could do it _right_ and not... well, not do _that_.

But he manages to hold it back and Jensen slowly relaxes. Says, "Good. Okay," before pulling in a breath and taking a step back. "I'll, uh--" His gaze drops then, settles somewhere around the vicinity of Jared's mouth before he seems to catch himself and turn back to his door. "Right. I'll see you in the morning."

Jared doesn't respond, stands there just long enough to watch Jensen disappear into his bedroom.

He's fairly sure that could've gone better but, all things considered. But, as Sadie walks up and noses sympathetically at his hand, he thinks it probably could've been a lot worse.

:::

Unsurprisingly, Jared doesn't sleep very well that night. Still feeling entirely unsettled, he gets up at his normal time and hopes a run with the dogs will help calm him.

It doesn't.

When he returns, Jensen's already in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee and Jared makes it a point to tread lightly, not saying so much as a "good morning" as he fills the dog bowls and then pours himself a glass of orange juice.

They nurse their respective beverages in silence while Sadie and Harley scarf down their food and, ordinarily, it would be totally fine. Completely normal. Neither of them are really all that big on talking in the morning, Jensen needing his jolt of caffeine and Jared his jolt of (a preferably huge) breakfast, so it's not exactly an unprecedented kind of morning.

But it feels different. Strained and heavy with tension.

And Jared can't take it. He really can't.

"Look," he says, setting down his glass and taking a sharp breath. "I know you said we shouldn't talk about it, but--"

"Mm-mm. No," Jensen says firmly with a sharp shake of his head, already turning to walk out.

Jared moves quick, two steps left before cutting in, blocking Jensen's path to the doorway. "Seriously, listen," he says, moving right and then left as Jensen tries to dodge around him. He has both height and reflexes on his side for this match, Jensen still too groggy to offer more than increasingly disgruntled sounds with every failed attempt. " _Listen_ , Jen. Let me--"

Frustrated, Jared finally drops his hands to Jensen's arms and holds him still, ducks his head to force Jensen to look at him.

"I wanna talk about this."

"I don't," is Jensen's reply, clipped and unwavering, jaw tipped upward and coffee cup still clutched protectively between two hands.

"Too fucking bad."

"You fell asleep!"

Jared winces, but manages not to let go. Pushes past the swell of embarrassment to say, "I know! Fuck, I know and I'm _sorry_ , but I was just-- we'd had a really long day, man, and I was tired and so _so_ fucking drunk and I think... I don't know, I just closed my eyes and it was so good and I didn't--"

"I give really awesome head, Jared. I'm a fucking _expert_ and you--"

" _I know_ ," Jared insists, his hands sliding from Jensen's arms to his neck as he steps in closer. "Fuck, I _know_ , dude. That was, like, the best blowjob of my _life_."

Jensen gives a sharp snort of disbelief. " _YOU FELL ASLEEP!_ "

Jared nearly outright growls then, lips pulling back in a frustrated, muted snarl as he fights the conflicting impulse to beg forgiveness and punch Jensen's stupid, stubborn, annoying face in. His hands are still heavy on Jensen's neck, thumbs resting along the collar of his stretched t-shirt and Jensen apparently really has had enough of the whole thing as he shifts abruptly, yanking and twisting free with just enough force to both escape _and_ drench Jared's shirt in steaming hot coffee.

"Jesus! Fuck!" Jared cries out, hopping back as he pulls the shirt away from his scalded skin.

"Oh shit," he hears Jensen mutter. "Shit, I'm sorry. Shit, _shit_!"

It's a few seconds of chaos then, Jared struggling with his shirt as Jensen wets a washcloth with cold water and the dogs circle their feet in curious concern, sniffing at the splatters of dark liquid on the floor before Jared can nudge them away with his knees.

The skin of his stomach is reddened and a little tender, but the cool washcloth Jensen hands him soothes it almost immediately and Jared sucks in a breath, nodding at nothing in particular. "It's fine. I'm fine. Fucking _coffee_."

"I'm sorry," Jensen offers yet again and Jared shakes him off, still dabbing at his sore skin, cleaning off the mess along the waistband of his shorts. At least it hadn't managed to splash much lower or they might've had something closer to a catastrophe on their hands.

When Jared glances up again, shirtless and smelling like a used Starbucks, Jensen's watching him guiltily.

"I think maybe this makes us even," he says, lips twitching in a wary, but hopeful smile.

Jared shakes his head, meets Jensen's eyes as he tosses the wet washcloth into the sink and says very clearly, "No. Not yet."

He doesn't offer any further explanation before grabbing his stained t-shirt and walking out.

:::

They barely speak on the ride to set and have another uncomfortable day once they get there. They get dressed and hit their marks and say their lines and chill in their respective trailers in the downtime. Occasionally, Jensen cuts him a quick glance and Jared gets the impression he wants to say something, but the words never seem to come, just die away on a sigh and subtle shake of his head.

It's different from the past couple days, though. If only because Jared feels like, this time, he's the one with the upper hand. And he's milking it for all it's worth.

They wrap up late yet again, endure another quiet, uneventful car ride home and crash in their bedrooms mere minutes after stepping through the door.

The next day is more of the same, routine and ordinary, but it gets easier, more normal, Jensen slowly starting to loosen up again.

They go over their lines for the day in the car and make idle, pointless conversation in the make-up trailer, gleefully taking turns teasing Shannon about her new boyfriend. They grab lunch together and eat it in Jared's trailer while watching an old episode of _Deadliest Catch_ and it's just like before, just like every moment Jared's spent with Jensen in the last few years.

And, hey, if he sits a little bit closer than usual or lets himself stare just a little too long... well, Jensen doesn't seem to notice. Or care.

For now, that's just fine by Jared. In fact, that's just perfect.

:::

It's three weeks of carefully lulling Jensen into a false sense of security before Jared finally gets his opportunity to strike.

They haven't once talked about the night of the party or the two subsequent conversations, but Jared hasn't stopped thinking about it. Jensen seems content to just forget the whole thing. Apparently, just chalking it up to a night of way too much alcohol, all too happy for it to be never mentioned again.

Having spent every night of the last three weeks remembering the feel of Jensen's mouth on his own, Jared can say with complete certainty, that he is _really_ not okay with that.

So he has a plan.

The party is at Gabe's this time, though it's just more of a friendly get-together than an actual party. Regardless, Jared is careful. He drinks no more than maybe four beers through the entire course of the evening, but makes it look like more, never finishing more than half of one bottle before moving onto a new one.

Jensen, as expected, is keeping pace and then some.

Just after midnight, Jared collects both his and Jensen's coats and Brenda bumps in close, whispers, "Please tell me you're driving." She's smiling as she says it, but Jared doesn't miss the sincere concern in her eyes and nods as he holds up the ring of keys he'd fished from Jensen's coat pocket.

Jensen seems to take that as his cue, lurching briefly into Jared's space to grab his coat. "We goin'?" he says, loose and happy, smile easy like it only is when he really stops caring about everything else around him.

"Yeah, man," he says. "Think it's good to call it a night."

"We should get a cab," Jensen says as he struggles into his coat. "Pick up my truck later."

"N'ah, it's cool," Jared replies, giving Jensen's coat sleeve a tug. "Some of us actually know how to hold our liquor, Schmackles."

"And some of us aren't built like the Incredible Hulk on steroids and have, you know, actual, human metabolisms. Asshole," Jensen says, though there's no heat in it at all. Jared decides to take it as a compliment.

It's about a half-hour drive back to his place and Jensen spends most of it poking at the radio, singing along to nearly every song he comes across, occasionally cajoling Jared into joining in. And that's how Jared knows he's really drunk; Jensen _never_ tries to get Jared to sing. Ever. In fact, he typically makes one hell of a show of doing quite the opposite. Which is fair, Jared figures. He knows he has the voice of a wounded bullfrog; it's all good.

So this time, Jared humors him, joining in on the songs he knows, but keeping his voice pitched low, melody cutting off into a laugh when Jensen fucks up the words to the latest Black Eyed Peas song.

"Dude, I'm surprised you even knew that much," he says as he pulls Jensen's truck into the drive.

"Against my will," says Jensen, groaning a little as he leans back and undoes his seat belt. "You're a terrible influence."

"I help broaden your horizons," Jared argues, wrenching the truck into park and resting back comfortably to watch Jensen wrestle with the passenger side door.

Sliding out, he tosses Jared a mock-glare. Says, "Broaden my tolerance levels, more like," and then sways back a little on his heels, snorting a laugh once he regains his balance. "Shit, dude, I am _hammered_."

"Yeah, I noticed," Jared says, smirking as he steps out and locks the doors, Jensen trailing after him as he heads up the walk.

Once inside, Jared watches Jensen discreetly as he hangs up their coats and then whistles for the dogs. They come running, eager for food and one last trip outside and Jared heads for the backdoor as Jensen disappears down the hall, muttering about needing a piss. When he reemerges a few minutes later, stripped down to his boxers and a wrinkled, white t-shirt, Jared has to take a second to make sure his brain's still on-line.

It's not that Jared hasn't seen Jensen like this before, rumpled and tired, walls stripped down to nothing. But it hits harder this time, smacks him right in the gut.

This is his chance right here.

"We got any more of that Last Shot stuff?" Jensen asks, padding barefoot through the kitchen. His shirt hikes up slightly as he reaches to grab a glass from the cupboard and Jared completely ignores the question in favor of pressing his fingers to that sliver of skin and stepping in close.

Instead of going tense like Jared expects, Jensen just gives a quiet snort as he catches himself against the countertop.

"You trip, dude? What the fuck."

"Shh," Jared says, taking a second to breathe him in. Jensen's cologne has faded, subtle spice hidden under a layer of booze, nicotine and sweat and his skin is musky warm at the nape. Jared barely holds himself back from taking a taste as his other hand falls to Jensen's hip, holding him there in a firm grip.

"You're drunk," he says, resting his cheek against Jensen's temple.

"Yeah, no shit," Jensen replies, twisting slightly like he maybe wants to break free, but doesn't quite have the coordination necessary to succeed. Jared doesn't miss the way his voice drops slightly, low and secretive. "Your observational skills are astounding."

"So's your vocabulary," Jared says, smirking as he ducks just enough to brush his lips against the shell of Jensen's ear. "You know. Considering."

Jensen falls still, settling like he's resigned himself to his fate, both hands on the counter to hold his weight. "Maybe I'm not--" he starts, cutting off when Jared noses at his ear, teeth lightly scraping the tender skin there. "Not drunk. Maybe I'm just... ohh. Just... really good at fakin' it."

"You're not," Jared says, certain of that much. He skims his hands over Jensen's bare arms, fingers curled over the bend of his elbows as he rolls his hips forward, lets Jensen feel how hard he is already.

"Could be," Jensen says, the statement broken by a quiet groan before he tilts his hips back slightly. "Jay? Jay, seriously. What the fuck're you doin'?"

Jared grins then, moves one hand from Jensen's arm to the front of his shirt, fingertips easily pushing the fabric up to rest his palm against Jensen's bare stomach.

"Making amends," he says, a low murmur against Jensen's ear.

That gets him an honest-to-God _whimper_ in reply and it's all the impetus he needs to push this thing further. Stepping back, he drops one hand to Jensen's shoulder and curls the other over his hip, twists him around with a rough, graceless tug. Jensen goes with it, putting up virtually no fight whatsoever as he falls back against the counter, eyes wide.

"Jay--"

"It's my turn," Jared says, stepping in close and boxing him in. He drops his hands to the front of Jensen's shirt again, feels the stretch of warm muscle beneath, the thump of Jensen's heartbeat as he leans in close enough that their noses brush, inhales the scent of mint and tequila on Jensen's breath.

Jensen looks completely stunned, chest heaving in quick, ragged breathes as Jared hooks one thumb in the waistband of his boxer shorts. "Jared," he manages, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "Jared, c'mon, you're not--"

Jared cuts him off by cupping one hand over the bulge of Jensen's boxers, feels Jensen's dick twitch under his palm and grins wide.

"Not what?"

"Oh god," Jensen groans, eyes slipping shut as his whole body shudders. His hands drop back to curl over the lip of the counter and his hips buck forward like he can't help himself. "Jared... fuck, Jared, don't-- God, you better not be playin' around, man."

Jared grins as his eyes rake over the expanse of Jensen's neck, the skin there flushed red, faintly shiny with sweat. "I'm really not," he says and then twists his wrist, fits his fingers under the waistband to wrap his hand around Jensen's dick. He's only half hard, but Jared isn't worried, starts moving his hand slow and sure over the heated skin.

Jensen grunts and pounds the heel of one hand against the counter. Growls, " _Fuck_ ," as his back arches.

The angle is different from what Jared's used to and the elastic catches on his wrist with each pull, but it seems to be doing the trick. Jensen keeps his head tilted back, lips slightly parted around quiet, strained moans, his shirt hiked up to show the trail of hair leading down from his belly button. It doesn't take long for Jensen to get fully hard, his cock a heavy, perfect weight in Jared's hand and Jared shifts a little, crowds in closer to press his lips to the curve of Jensen's jaw.

"You gonna fall asleep if I blow you?" he murmurs and Jensen jerks against him with a gasp, the sound melting into a sharp laugh, a choked sound in the back of his throat.

"Dude, are you-- are you serious?" he manages, voice catching on the words as Jared's grip tightens. "Ahh, _fuck_. Jared--"

"Completely serious," he says, turning his wrist just enough to pass his thumb over the tip, massaging the slit with a gentle back and forth motion. Jensen shudders. "You can, y'know. Fair's fair."

"Should," Jensen says, teeth clenched as his hips buck forward. "God, I fuckin' _should_ , you giant-- ah, Jesus, don't stop. Fuck, don't stop, I swear to God, I will kill you if you stop."

Smirking, Jared leans in closer, rests his forehead to Jensen's cheek and stares down the length of Jensen's body. His hand is still largely covered by the fabric of Jensen's boxers, every upward jerk pulling the waistband away from Jensen's hips to reveal a tantalizing peek of skin and thatch of dark hair. Jensen's panting is loud next to Jared's ear and he's burning hot where they're pressed together.

Finally managing to tear his gaze away, Jared turns his head, presses his nose to the sharp line of Jensen's cheekbone as he shudders a breath. "I'm gonna make you come," he whispers, more confession than promise as he works his hand faster. "Right here, Jen. Just like this."

"Fuck. Fuck, _yeah_. Jared-- Do it. Fucking _do_ it."

Jared's lips drag along Jensen's cheek to his jaw, the stubble scratching faintly as he shudders another breath, twists his wrist and works his hand faster, falling into the stilted rhythm of Jensen's hips.

"And later," he adds, the words scraping past his throat. "Later, I'm gonna suck you. And you're gonna let me. I'll make it so good, Jen, I promise. So fucking good. Just let you fuck my mouth like you'd fuck a girl, pound down my throat. God, I want it. Wanna choke on you."

" _Jesus_ ," Jensen groans, voice high and tight in his throat. "Jesus, Jared. Fuck, _fuck_ , oh God. Ohhh--"

Jared pulls away just enough to watch Jensen's face as he comes, eyelashes dark against his flushed cheeks and lips stretched around a silent moan as it wracks through him. Jared's hand is suddenly wet, sticky and slick from Jensen's release as he keeps working, stroking him through every tremor and spurt, reveling in the easy slip-slide as Jensen suddenly sucks in a breath and blinks his eyes open.

He slows his pace only when Jensen jerks and hisses, clenching his eyes tight. Jared laughs, a soft breath of air. "Jesus Christ."

Jensen's only response is a low, helpless groan and Jared carefully slips his hand free, grazes the backs of his wet fingertips over the skin of Jensen's lower belly.

Neither of them move for a long moment, their breathing overly loud in the otherwise still room. Jared can feel Jensen's heartbeat, just half a beat behind his own and his dick is still achingly hard, though he makes no move to do anything about it.

Jensen swallows and Jared can hear the wet sound of his throat before Jensen speaks.

"We're still not even," he says, voice rough. Scratchy.

"Hmm?" Jared replies as he slides his hand higher up Jensen's side, adjusts so that he can press his dick against the jut of Jensen's hipbone. The friction is nearly blissful and he indulges in a single slow grind as his lips graze the skin just below Jensen's ear. "How do you figure?"

"Before," Jensen says, pausing to lick his lips and rest one hand on Jared's shoulder. "You didn't come. Didn't get that far."

Jared snorts a laugh into Jensen's neck and shakes his head, shivers when Jensen's fingers slide higher to massage his nape.

"Through no fault of my own, of course," Jensen hastens to add as he turns his head just enough to brush his lips against Jared's temple. "But still. Point stands."

Jared shudders faintly, pulls in a ragged breath. "That so?"

He can feel Jensen's lips slide into a grin and doesn't bother suppressing a sharp gasp when Jensen's hand drops from the back of his neck to his ass and roughly pulls him closer.

"Yeah," Jensen breathes, voice low and dripping with promise. "So how 'bout we even the score, huh?"

:::

Jared wakes up later in his own bed, unable to move his legs and with a warm, wet mouth around his dick.

He's moaning even before his eyes open, hips arching as he drops a hand down to rest atop the sheet-covered head bobbing over his groin.

"Jen--" he groans, mouth dry and voice breaking off into a whimper. "Fuck. _Jensen_."

Wrestling with the sheet, he finally manages to pull it free, revealing Jensen's messy hair and flushed cheeks, eyes a deep green as he looks up at Jared, mouth still stuffed full with Jared's cock.

And that's-- it's too much. Way too much. Jared's head falls back and his hips lift up off the bed, grips tight at the sheets with both hands as his muscles seize. Jensen only hums in encouragement and Jared cries out and goes off like a rocket, shooting hot and fast into Jensen's waiting mouth.

Cool air brushes his wet, sensitive dick when Jensen pulls off and he whimpers anew, head lolling as he tries to gather what few remaining brain cells he has left.

Jensen rests back on his haunches, naked and smug as he wipes at his mouth with the back of his wrist. Says, "I'm up three-two," as he trails his fingers up the inside of Jared's thigh.

"Mmm," Jared replies, shifting against the sheets before finally gathering enough strength to reach up and yank Jensen on top of him. "Three-two, huh?"

Jensen's answer comes in the slow roll of his hips, his dick a hard line against Jared's stomach. His muscles bunch and shift under Jared's hands and he squirms until they're both comfortable, Jensen straddling Jared's hips and grinding against him, head ducked into the curve of Jared's neck, breathing hot against tender skin.

Jared tips his head back, encouraging as his hand lands on Jensen's ass.

Grinning, he turns to murmur against Jensen's ear: "Does it count for more if I let you fuck me?"

"Oh, _Jesus_ ," Jensen gasps, teeth scraping the curve of Jared's jaw as he lifts his head, still rutting against Jared's stomach, skin glistening with spunk and sweat. "Only-- fuck, only if it cures my hangover."

And Jared laughs, a low, throaty rumble as he raises his hand to the back of Jensen's neck, tilts him so their mouths crash together in a mess of tongue and teeth. He loses himself in the kiss, every part of his being focused on the feel of Jensen's tongue in his mouth and the pitch of his stilted whimpers. It's clumsy and messy, Jensen sucking on his tongue and then biting at his bottom lip as his hips work faster and harder, pushing himself to the precipice.

Jared lets out his own whine when Jensen pulls away with a gasp. He spreads his hand wide at the back of Jensen's neck to keep them pressed forehead to forehead as Jensen stops breathing and shudders all over, paints Jared's stomach in streams of come.

"God, yeah," he breathes, feeling it slick across his skin, mixing with sweat and his own release from hours earlier. His dick gives a feeble, futile twitch.

Jensen collapses then, every muscle turned to dead weight as his nose smashes into Jared's cheek.

"I'm done," he declares weakly, the words muffled.

Groaning, Jared runs a hand up Jensen's bare back, fingers bumping over the ridges of his spine. "Truce?"

"Mmm," Jensen says and then pulls in a breath as he rolls over and off, stretches out on his back in the space next to Jared. "Maybe. For now."

Jared likes the sound of that, the way it subtly implies there'll be a next time, and he smiles to himself, lets his fingers lightly brush the outside of Jensen's thigh as he glances over. He feels sated and worn, blissed out in the best possible way and Jensen looks about the same, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and puffy.

Jared stares at him for a long while, until Jensen's breathing slows into a quiet snore and Jared's own eyelids start to droop.

And it occurs to him just as he's about to drift off that maybe his spectacular blowjob faux pas was really not such a bad thing after all.

 **end.**


End file.
